


How Are You?

by Listentothelittlebird



Series: Code Bat [16]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Bruce Wayne is a Good Parent, Code Bat, Gen, Jason gets rescued by Batdad, Protective Bruce Wayne, Tim gets his revenge, Vague descriptions of Jason being beaten up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-30
Updated: 2020-11-30
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:21:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,124
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27798400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Listentothelittlebird/pseuds/Listentothelittlebird
Summary: Code Bat can have varying levels of urgency, depending on how it is activated.An emergency activation tended to mean that dire help was needed, and that their normal superhero teammates were not rescue options.Jason, thankfully, remembered to use Code Bat when those boxes were ticked.(Featuring Tim answering a call for Jason as his bratty younger brother.)
Relationships: Bruce Wayne & Jason Todd, Jason Todd & Tim Drake
Series: Code Bat [16]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1964452
Comments: 24
Kudos: 638





	How Are You?

Jason was not doing too well.

Correction: his whole team was not doing too well. He was fairly sure Bizarro was down, from what looked like a rip-off blue version of kryptonite. Artemis was chained up in what looked like an egyptian coffin with the head blown off. Jason could only see her head, and the coffin must have been draining her powers or something, because she looked drugged.

Jason was actually drugged, so he thinks he would know. 

The people who kidnapped them were simultaneously professional and amateurish. Professional in how they had managed to lure them in and trap them, but so ridiculously predictable that Jason wanted to laugh.

Of course they chose the only non-powered person to torture. They thought he would be easier to break than an Amazonian and a sort-of Kryptonian - would be more ready to spill the beans on where their base was, where his weapons stash was, what his identity was. 

He died and came back to life. This was nothing.

A swift blow to the head had him reeling, and he heard the distinct cracking of his helmet giving way. They pried off the remains excitedly, and Jason managed a crooked smirk when he met their gaze with his red domino mask. He spat in the face of the closest thug, giving him enough of a distraction to tilt his ear into his shoulder and press hard.

A near-silent chitter of his comms unit, like a call of a bat, then nothing. It was all Jason needed to know he had activated the emergency signal.

They were coming for him.

His thoughts were derailed by the harsh punch to his jaw.

The thing about being strapped to a chair is that, at the least, it was easier to slump over and get comfortable. As comfortable as you could get when one was being beaten for information he would never give.

“There’s no rescue party looking for you, genius,” the ringleader, the main guy who had been spouting the usual intimidation nonsense, sneered, “All I can see is a Superman wannabe, a Wonder Woman reject, and a man who thought it’d be funny to tag along with a helmet and guns. Ain’t nobody coming to get you, so why don’t you tell us what we wanna know, and then we’ll let you all go.”

The man probably expected Jason to agree or spit again in his face. Instead, Jason laughed, disregarding the harsh pain in his side from what was no doubt a few cracked ribs.

“What’s so funny?” the man growled, in annoyance and a tinge of frustration. Jason just shook his head, still refusing to answer, even if it was the most mundane question thus far. 

Jason knew the odds that they would be let go freely, if he spilled his guts. He also knew that he had activated Code Bat, a call for help that would not be ignored, especially since it was the emergency activation.

“You messed with the wrong man, you asshole,” Jason spoke for the first time since his helmet came off, his voice low and dangerous, echoing throughout the warehouse, “You don’t have any idea who you’re dealing with.”

He was Red Hood. He was an ex-Robin. He was Jason Peter Todd-Wayne, and he was a Bat.

Jason was still, unfortunately, human, and he soon lost track of time amidst the increased severity of the beatings. Whether it was the fact that the thugs were intimidated by his words and trying to finish the job, or the fact that the drugs he had been doused with were wearing off, the pain was starting to flare in several different places. 

It all blended together into a mind-numbing sensation. His head was drooping, now, and he was gritting his teeth tightly against the pain. His blood was roaring in his ears, emitting sluggish pulses. 

_They’re coming. They’re coming. They’re coming._

“Who’s coming?” Jason heard someone say. Then there was a hand grabbing his face, yanking his head up to face the ringleader. He was trying to growl, but Jason saw as clear as day the silent panic in his eyes, the fear sinking into his brows.

Jason tried to laugh again, and it came out as a weak huff of air. His smirk was bloodied but ever the more confident.

Shouting echoed from outside the building. As soon as the man turned, he was socked in the face by a black-gauntleted fist. The hand gripping tightly onto Jason’s chin was ripped away, and Jason’s head fell back down into its slump.

He struggled to make out what was happening around him. There were gunshots, now, but just as quickly were the guns fired as bodies dropped in unconscious heaps. He knew they were unconscious - he could only hear gunfire from one side, and the sound of gloved fists meeting their marks.

“Where is he? Where’d he go?” was yelled at one point, when the gunshots died down long enough for Jason to pick out the words, “Who are we even fighting, has anyone seen him?”

“Doesn’t matter,” the ringleader growled, “Just stay on guard, and-”

There was a yelp, from near the walls of the warehouse. The ringleader yelled, his voice growing distant and faint before it was muffled. In the silence, the remaining thugs whispered hesitantly, before pounding steps of several grown men exited the warehouse. The space descended into silence.

There was a hiss of a grappling hook.

“Red Hood, report.” The growl was familiar to Jason, but he was struggling to unscramble his thoughts. He opened his mouth, but all that came out was a wheeze and several strained coughs.

A hand returned to his chin, but it was gentle, a careful hold. Calloused fingers checked his pulse, warm against his sweat-soaked skin, before his head was tilted up from his chest. 

Batman was staring at him, lips tightly pressed together, jaw set firmly. “Report,” he commanded, his large hand cradling Jason’s cheek.

“B?” Jason slurred. It was all he could say, all he could manage. He blinked slowly, gaze drifting before snapping back to Batman’s cowl. “B’z,” Jason forced out through dry and bloodied lips, “He- ok? Arty?”

“They’re both unconscious. I removed their restraints, and the blue kryptonite,” Batman filled in, “They look fine. You’re the one who needs medical attention.”

Jason gave no verbal response. He tried to nod, then winced at the new wave of pain which rolled over him. A groan slipped through gritted teeth. 

“Easy,” that was Bruce’s voice now, a soft rumble for injured Robins, “Let’s get you some help. Here.”

An arm snaked around his chest, pulling him up gently. When had his restraints been removed? Jason blinked, and tried to stand as much as he could. He was still leaning heavily against his father’s side, staggering out of the warehouse with quieted grunts and muted hisses.

“B,” Jason rasped, stopping both of them in their gradual walk out of the warehouse, “B’z. He - never been… exposed. Ta blue.” 

“Should I call Superman?” Batman questioned. His tone was not condescending. It was stoic, serious. “He’s dealing with an off-world problem, but he should be back soon enough.”

“Uh-huh,” Jason hummed, “Let th’boy scout… do the fussin’.”

Batman huffed beside him, and started guiding him towards the exit once more.

“I’ll take care of it,” Batman assured, “But first, let’s get you home.”

~

Whenever one of them was injured and in the medbay of the Batcave, there would always be someone staying vigil beside them. 

It was Tim’s turn. He was typing on his laptop, but occasionally his gaze would flick towards Jason’s resting form, eyes flitting over his vitals before returning to his laptop screen.

A sharp thrill made Tim’s typing stutter. The sound was emitting from Jason’s communicator - it had been ringing on and off for the past day. This time, the caller was Roy. 

This time, Jason shifted, eyes squeezing as he let out a soft groan.

“Da hell?” he whined, blinking sluggishly at the ceiling. Tim slammed his laptop closed and jumped up so that he was in his brother’s line of sight. Jason’s tense form - Bat-training made them automatically wary when coming to - visibly relaxed. 

“How’re you feeling?” Tim asked, when the ringing finally came to a stop. “Peachy,” Jason grunted with a small smile, grimacing slightly as he tried to sit up. Tim helped him sit back on his pillow. 

“How many times have they called?” Jason questioned, eyeing his communicator with a frown, “I assume they’ve tried several times.”

Tim hummed in agreement, “This is about the tenth time since I came down. They probably called more when Bruce and Dick were around. Damian said they went silent for the night.”

Jason blinked at that. “The brat did guard duty?” Jason grinned, “I mean, that I believe, but he let himself be caught doing it?”

Tim huffed, “Hey, he’s grown a lot since his world tour. Damian’s come really far, from where he started.”

“Assassin baby is finally being a normal child,” Jason chuckled, then winced as he jostled his injuries. The communicator started to ring again.

“Lemme answer it,” Jason made grabby hands at the communicator, “I gotta let them know I’m good, or they’ll never stop calling.”

“You’re still healing,” Tim frowned, “You’re on some painkillers, and I know we’re kind of immune to normal side effects by now, but you might let something slip. You never know.”

“Ye of little faith, Timbo,” Jason huffed, but lowered his hands to rest on his lap, “What’ll we do, then? That comm doesn’t have a texting function.”

Tim chewed on his lip in contemplation. “Well,” he mumbled, “You helped do it to me, so I should return the favour.”

“What-”

Tim swiped up Jason’s communicator and answered it, maintaining eye contact with a small smirk.

Tim miscalculated his brother’s reaction.

“Hey!” Jason yelled, grinning wide, “Give that back, you little shit! That’s not a toy!”

“Sucks to be you!” Tim snarked back, dropping into a lilt that matched Jason’s - a toned-down version of a street accent. “Whatcha gonna do, huh?”

“Uh,” Roy’s voice was definitely hesitant, “Hello?”

“Is this one of your friends, Jay?” Tim plopped himself back down on the chair beside Jason, fiddling until the communicator was on speaker, “Is this a walkie-talkie? Damn, dude, where’d you get one of these from?”

“Like I’d tell you,” Jason chuckled, even as he signed the real answer, “ _Roy and I made them. They’re pretty cool, aren’t they?_ ”

“Eh, well, they look like bricks, anyway,” Tim commented mildly, “They’re like the old Nokia phones, except you can’t even type on them.”

Jason flipped him off.

“Uhm, can I speak to Jay, please?” Roy’s voice trailed through the communicator.

“Nope!” Tim chirped, “Jay’s supposed to be resting. He got really banged up at a- what was it? A bar fight or something?”

“Yeah, something like that,” Jason replied easily, “Although I was definitely not in the wrong, this time.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” Tim snickered. “Look, man, whoever you are, stop calling this damn thing. People are trying to sleep here, for crying out loud.”

“Is Jay alright?” Roy questioned, apparently not put-off by the general brattiness he was being given. 

“I’m fine, Roy,” Jason called, “Help relay that to the others. My brother’s not going to give that back anytime soon.”

“You got that right!” Tim cheered, while Roy paused, then sputtered out, “You have a brother?”

“Buh-bye!” Tim said, then hung up the phone.

Jason chuckled, then caught himself as he winced again. His throat was extremely dry, something he had realised halfway through the call. He tried to swallow and grimaced.

Tim handed him a glass of water which he took gratefully. 

“That makes us even,” Tim smirked, once Jason had emptied the glass, “Both of us have had a hand in trolling our teammates through a call.” He had migrated to sit on the edge of Jason’s bed, his arm resting against Jason’s.

“Technically, it was Steph who did the trolling last time,” Jason pointed out, bumping Tim’s shoulder lightly. 

“Yeah, but you were an enabler,” Tim shot back, nudging Jason as well. Jason huffed and shook his head. 

“D’you think I can make it to the kitchen? I’m starving.” Jason wriggled out from under the medical bed’s blanket, planting his two feet on the floor. Tim sighed and moved over to help Jason as he stood up, “Let me help, or you’re going to get nowhere. C’mon, couldn’t you just get Alfred to bring a snack down for you?”

“Nah. I’m injured, not useless. I can walk.”

“You say that, but you’d be on the floor without me.”

“Shush. Let a guy pretend.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hiiiiii again :)
> 
> The second half of the fic, with Tim and Jason, was referencing [Why Hello There!](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27401932), where Tim was the one whose call was intercepted.
> 
> Hope everyone had a great shopping weekend XD I’ve heard that Black Friday sales are crazy in some places (although, I guess current world circumstances dampen that)


End file.
